Faults of the Heart
by Dangerous Bliss
Summary: As John settles back into his own body, and he and Sherlock return to their lives after the events that changed them forever, it seems that their troubles have only just begun, and there will certainly be a few surprises on their way. Part 2 of the Perception Chronicles, sequel to Mind Over Body, please read that first!
1. Chapter 1: Ground Rules

**Hello again my dear readers! I hope the wait was not too painful! I have to warn you that I might not be updating as regularly as with Mind Over Body, though there should definitely still be an update every couple of days :) If you are a new reader, please read that story first as otherwise you will have no clue what's going on! Here you go, first chapter, enjoy and don't forget to tell me what you think!**

_Mycroft_

This was the fifth migraine that had tormented me in the last two days. They were always stress-induced, so it was no wonder that I was having them so frequently at the moment, though it certainly didn't help. I was at my desk in the Diagones Club, and my hands were cupped around my face from over exertion and a lack of good coffee. What I desperately needed was someone to give me some really good news, but unfortunately this was not going to happen, and so I was left alone in my office trying desperately to sort out the events that had taken place between the reversal of the effects of the machine on John, and last night.

Everything had only just returned to normal after the last few weeks, and for a few days I had been certain that there would be no problems for a while yet. I was wrong. At 3:30am this morning I had received a phone call from one of my advisors informing me that the machine was no longer in the possession of my top scientists, and that six of them had died in the attack that had occurred. Really, I should have seen it coming, and I cursed myself over and over for not putting up more security around the lab. I didn't know who exactly had stolen the machine, but it was safe to presume that Moriarty's father probably had something to do with it. There was still no trace of him anywhere, it was as though he had disappeared off the face of the Earth. However, there was still evidence of crimes he had organised that proved he was still alive and very much in business. It was very worrisome, and was no doubt the causes of my frustrating headaches.

Sighing, I began to rub my face in an attempt to clear away the pain, even though I knew it would not help. I desperately wanted to drown my troubles in a mouthwatering slice of cake, but I resisted the temptation knowing my brother would comment on my loss of control next time I saw him otherwise. This new development put everyone in danger, though especially Sherlock. He and John had been the main targets last time, who was to say The Man did not want to finish what his son had started? I decided that my dear brother would have to deal with extra protection until this threat was removed. I would need to ask my assistant to arrange this when I next saw her.

At that moment, Anthea burst into the room, mobile held limply by her side instead of up by her face like usual.

"Ah," I said as I looked up at her in the doorway. "I was just going to ask you to organise-"

"Something's happened," she interrupted me. My expression immediately changed and became cool and dangerous.

"What?" I said through gritted teeth. She began to fidget nervously as I trained my gaze on her, and she lowered her line of sight so that she wouldn't meet my eyes.

"He escaped." She said quietly, and I stood abruptly and began to pace around the room. I didn't need to ask who had escaped- there was only one man that up until this point had been detained in one of my custom built prison cells, and he was not supposed to ever see the light of day again. It was all too much, too many things going wrong for me at the moment, and I was sick of getting bad news. When I looked back at my assistant, she seemed to have regained her composure, and began to walk towards me, face devoid of all emotion.

"I've tripled the security regarding your brother and Doctor Watson," she said, and I relaxed slightly. "It looks like Moriarty had help from an insider when he escaped, so I've taken the liberty and had all his guards who are still alive taken in for questioning. Is there anything you need? A cup of tea, perhaps?" I nodded in agreement and she left to fetch it for me, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I couldn't shake the feeling that the machine going missing just a few hours before Moriarty's escape was no coincidence. Not for the first time that day, I wished that Moriarty had never invented that bloody machine. How much easier my life would have been if he had really died on the roof of St. Barts that fateful day.

I had just begun to imagine how much better life could have been when Anthea returned, holding my cup of tea, and she had kindly placed a biscuit on the saucer. I raised my eyebrow at her and she smirked at me, all traces of her earlier deference forgotten as I munched happily. She turned to leave, but I cleared my throat, which caused her to look back at me.

"Thank you," I said, which made her furrow her brow in confusion.

"What for?" She asked, and I gave her a small smile, not completely sure where I was going with this either.

"For... Everything," I finally said, and she returned my smile before leaving the room. I sat back in my chair, suddenly feeling a bit silly having come out with that. It sounded suspiciously like something John would say, and I wondered if he was rubbing off on me. Hopefully not, as I'm sure I would never be able to deal with that much sentimentality.

Why had I said it? It was a very vague answer, one that Anthea would not really consider much, when I had meant for it to be so much more meaningful. Life was just too complicated at that moment, and I returned to my earlier position of my head resting on my hands, eyes closed and mind drifting, trying to come up with answers that were just out of my reach.


	2. Chapter 2: An Unspoken Agreement

**Here you go, the new chapter! Like I said previously, they'll be coming in every couple of days from now :) I pride myself on my ability to keep to regular updates even with everything that's going on at the moment, and I hope you guys appreciate that too! I have ideas for the next few chapters but any ideas are welcome if there's something you really want me to include!**

_Sherlock_

There was an unspoken agreement between John and I that the events of the previous weeks were not to be spoken of, no matter the circumstances. So far this had proved to be far too tedious for my liking, as I would have liked a full account from John so I could store it for later study. However, my friend (how I enjoyed being able to call him that) was, rather unfortunately, still shaken by what had happened and completely refused to discuss it. It annoyed me to no great end, but I respected his wishes and let him have peace from my bombardment of questions, if only for a while. I was sure he'd come to his senses eventually and see that he had been sitting on one of the greatest developments of mankind so far. Then I would get all the answers I needed.

"Bored!" I called out into the flat from my perch on the sofa, though there was no answer to my cry. Surely John would have alerted me if he was planning a shopping trip?

"John!"

"John."

"Jooohn."

"JOHN."

That last one finally earned me a response from my grumpy flatmate, who had evidently decided I was not going to stop calling for him unless he answered. I heard him stomp down the stairs, and he entered the lounge still muttering something about being treated like a dog.

"What?" He said, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"I'm bored." I replied, simply. He huffed and rolled his eyes, though from the slight grin it was obvious he wasn't too frustrated with me.

"Have you not got some kind of experiment you could work on? Or you could visit Molly? Or you could come with me shopping? There, I've given you three ideas!" He grinned at my increasing looks of distaste at everything he mentioned.

"I want a case!" I moaned, which only earned me another eye roll. Lestrade had not been very forthcoming with cases lately, claiming that I'd used up most of the cold cases, and that he was saving the remaining few for a day when I was suicidal thanks to boredom. I had scoffed at the notion, though I had not pushed the issue any further. Let him keep his stupid cold cases. They weren't as fun as current ones anyway.

When John gave me yet another eye roll I pointedly asked him if he was alright. Needless to say, he was not impressed.

"Maybe I should call Mycroft to come and entertain you!" He added in response. I physically jerked at the suggestion before settling my face into a well-practiced scowl. John realised he'd crossed the line and quickly escaped the room, busying himself in the kitchen to avoid my glares.

I stood and swept out of the room, returning to the sanctuary of my bedroom and flopping down on the nearly unused bed. I stared around the room, glowering when I was unable to find a source of entertainment. I remembered thinking that I'd had enough excitement for a lifetime after we'd retrieved John from the gang in Paris, but I didn't expect my thoughts to be taken so seriously. Anything to distract me from the dullness would have been welcome in that moment.

As it so happened, it was just as that thought crossed my mind that my phone lit up, signalling that someone had texted me. I dived towards it, my fingers flying over the keyboard as I waited impatiently for the phone to unlock. I opened the text, and was extremely pleased to find it was from Lestrade, who had conveniently found a case for me to work on. He had written that one of the Prime Minister's body guards had turned up dead this morning in an abandoned warehouse with no obvious signs of death. He had only been missing for a couple of hours, and had been happily married with a comfy lifestyle. Normally I would only have only rated this case a six at most, but it was certainly better than nothing.

"John!" I called as I flew down the stairs two at a time, my heart rate increasing rapidly from excitement. "There's a new case, John! Quick, grab your coat and let's go!" I was already moving towards the front door at this time, and I heard him scrambling for his things as we hastily left the flat. We got into a taxi and I told the driver to take us where we needed to be.

"Am I allowed to ask what's happened?" John asked, and I proceeded to tell him the details of the murder. I knew it was a murder, since there was no way the man could have ended up dead in an abandoned warehouse without some form of intervention.

I wasn't watching John at this point but when I received no response from him I turned in confusion. He was gripping his head with one hand, and had on an expression that could only be described as a grimace. I was about to ask what was wrong, but he suddenly blinked hard a few times and removed his hand, shaking his head in confusion.

"John?" I asked quietly. He gave me a small smile.

"Just a bit of a headache for a second there- nothing to worry about!" He said, though I could tell even be wasn't entirely convinced.

"Maybe you should wt it checked, it could be as a result of the machine. We have no idea what any long-term effects could be," I said, keeping my face blank while quietly worrying inside.

"Yea, sure," he said dismissively, "When we get back maybe."

I nodded slowly, and was about to ask him more about what exactly he'd felt just a moment ago when we arrived at the crime scene. My attention immediately focused on the case, and I completely forgot about John and his worrisome headache.

Even now I ask myself if I could have done something had I known what was about to happen, but the answer to that question always seems to be 'no'.


	3. Chapter 3: Frequencies

**I'm so sorry guys! I can't believe it's taken me four days to upload this chapter! I've just been so busy lately with exams and stuff, I promise to warn you in the future if I'm gonna be late with an update, and I promise wholeheartedly that I will not give up on this story, so don't worry :) here you go, exciting stuff coming up!**

_John_

_What was with this bloody headache?_

I gripped my head again, but when it went off again after a few seconds I was relieved to see that Sherlock had not spotted the action. He was too busy staring at the body and occasionally rattling off deductions that my foggy brain couldn't possibly hope to follow, let alone understand. These bursts of pain had been happening frequently in the ten minutes we'd been standing in this cold, damp warehouse, and I'd lost count after the fourth one. All I knew for certain is they seemed to get worse every time, and though they never lasted more than a few seconds at most, they also seemed to be getting longer as well. It really wasn't the most convenient of timings, as Lestrade and the other members of the police force kept giving me funny looks whenever I scrunched my face up in pain, and Donovan had even gone so far as to ask if I was alright. I had been surprised at the genuine concern she'd shown, and had been about to thank her for her sympathy when Sherlock, being Sherlock, had interrupted and told her that she was distracting his important deductions. Needless to say, she hasn't taken it very well, and had stormed off to the other side of the room, muttering obscenities. I had given the detective a hard look when I caught him smirking after her, though he didn't react other than to continue with his dizzying conclusions. At least, they were dizzying for me.

I could tell Sherlock was enjoying himself, and I really didn't want to interrupt him mid-stride, which is why I didn't enlighten him to the frequency of the waves of agony rolling through my head every minute or so. It was obvious that no one else was going to comment either, knowing full well the consequences of interrupting the consulting detective.

Only when another wave forced a small whimper out of my lips did he finally stop talking long enough to look at me. By the time he had managed to take in my agonised look and shift his own features into a look of concern, the pain had fled and I no longer had to clutch my forehead. I gave him a small smile to show I was ok, but as I'd expected he didn't drop the issue as I'd have liked him to. He continued to watch me in his calculating way, and this had led to the rest of the Yard officers doing the same.

"John-" he began, but I cut him off, not wishing to make a scene, and I knew that this case was more important than whatever was going on with me.

"I'm alright," I said, my face still holding a forced smile that Sherlock obviously wasn't buying for a second. "I just need some air, I'll be back in a couple of minutes." I didn't wait for him to answer, and instead turned swiftly round and walked out of the building. I could feel his penetrating gaze watching me as I walked, so I made sure to look relaxed and confident, even though I was silently panicking. I had never in all my years heard of something like this happening, and I was a doctor! Then again, until a few weeks ago I hadn't thought it possible to swap bodies with someone, and look how that turned out.

The thought stopped me in my tracks. Thankfully I was not in sight of Sherlock or anyone else when I had stopped or they might have come over to see what was wrong. I had to lean against the wall of the warehouse as my brain frantically went through conclusion after conclusion, none of them looking the least bit good. I hadn't really thought about any possible side effects of the machine, but now that the thought had burrowed its way into my brain it refused to leave. What if it had damaged me? It had obviously been a work-in-progress, and I'd been the first test subject, so there was no way of knowing what it could have done to my brain. Another thought made my breath hitch in my throat. What if the machine had given me a brain tumour, or had messed with my memories? Could I still do everything that I used to be able to? Oh God. _What if I was dying?_

This thought triggered another splitting headache, and I cried out from both pain and fear, though I smiled grimly when I realised that whatever I had coming to me, Moriarty almost certainly would have to endure too. I really hoped he was enduring these agonising headaches, and I wished I could see his face if he was. When this particular episode had finished I slid down the wall to the uncomfortable concrete floor and just sat there, mildly panting. I hoped Sherlock would come for me soon, as there was no telling how long I had left if I was in fact going to die from the after effects of the machine, and I wanted to tell him how he kept me sane. Not just through the events of the past weeks, but since the day he'd found me. I had been thoroughly bored with life since wing discharged from the army, but that day had changed everything. I realised that I'd never properly thanked him for that, and decided that if I made it through the next few minutes I would make sure he knew how much I appreciated his help.

That happy thought sent me back into the white hot pain that seemed to be making an appearance every thirty seconds or so now, and I clenched my fists so hard I'm quite sure my fingernails drew blood from my palms. I heard footsteps round the corner of the warehouse to the side I had collapsed in, and then Sherlock was kneeling next to me, repeating my name over and over like a mantra. I finally surfaced from the pain long enough to ask him not to leave me, and to start telling him about my own deductions of what was probably happening, but he shushed me.

"Call an ambulance!" He barked behind him, but my eyes were shut so I didn't see who he was shouting at. "It'll be alright, John. I'm here, you're going to be okay." I could tell he said it as much for his benefit as my own, but it made me feel instantly better. I relaxed slightly against the wall, and as the pain gripped my whole body this time I didn't try to fight it, and instead gave in, letting it flow through me like my life-blood. All I knew was pain, and the pain was everything.

Then, I woke up.

"Damn." I said.


	4. Chapter 4: Two Can Play

**Hey guys! I think I'm going to change the rating on this to T just because I read through the guidelines again and saw I'd been swearing in a fic rated for 9+ year olds :s Anyone who disagrees should speak now or forever hold your peace :L PS anyone read any good fics lately?preferably ones that are complete/regularly updated, and most definitely Sherlock related, or at least a crossover! I'm flowing loads but they always seem to go well for a bit and then just get abandoned :( Anyway, on we go with this story!**

_Jim_

As I sat at my desk clutching my head for the umpteenth time that morning, I had to mentally remind myself that throwing things across the room was not a good idea unless I wanted bloody Mycroft Holmes on my case again. It had been hard enough getting out a few days ago, not disappointment it of a disappointment to see I'd returned to my old body.

After returning to my office I'd had what could only be described as a 'temper tantrum', namely lobbing many heavy and very expensive objects across the small room and watching as they shattered against the far wall. It had been mildly entertaining until one of my employees had advised not to as the sound would certainly carry. The look on his face was priceless as I turned to him in a 'fit of rage' and backhanded him across the face. I'd then screamed at everyone to leave and had begun to pace madly around the room muttering how hard it was to find good employees until I was sure no one was in hearing distance. Obviously I had not really been that bothered by the switch back, I was just bored and wanted someone to intimidate.

Once I had established everyone had left, I had stopped and smirked, certain that there would be no further 'advice' from anyone in the building. Then, I had run round to the back of my desk and sat down, propping my feet up in a familiar routine and relaxing back. It had been marvellous to finally escape the clutches of a certain Holmes, though it wasn't like he'd done anything. Too nervous, I supposed, after last time he'd taken in what he'd thought to be me, and had failed miserably in keeping his brother's trust for the near future. I actually didn't mind being in my own body again, in fact it was quite nice to be feared again, as my glares just didn't have the same effect when I was John. Plus, I had a lot on those next few days that took my mind off the incident, and some of the plans would work better with my own body anyway.

I would have been perfectly content right then to continue organising crimes and generally being a nuisance to the British Government if it hasn't been for those infuriating headaches. They had been gradually getting longer and more painful over the last hour or two, and I couldn't help but wonder what the cause might be. There was a small chance that it could be an after effect of the machine, but it was more likely something to do with Mycroft. No doubt he had administered a drug while I had been unconscious and that these headaches were only the starting point of what was to come. It was certainly irritating to say the least.

I groaned at a sudden wave of pain and lay panting on my desk when it finally finished. This was certainly not natural. Something, whether it was the elder Holmes or not, had caused this. I calculated I probably had another thirty seconds until the next wave of pain, an rose shakily from my chair, supporting myself on my desk. No way was I going to just sit there and wait for whatever was going to happen, no, I wasn't going down without a fight. I started to walk towards the door to get one of my lackeys to help, but collapsed soon from the weight of my own body on my unstable legs. I growled in frustration before retrieving my phone from my pocket and ringing one of the men downstairs.

"Boss?" The deep voice on the other end of the phone sounded confused, and if I hadn't been in this current predicament I surely would have laughed.

"Get up here now," I hissed down the phone, and I could hear him shuffling around on the other end of the phone. He made a sound of agreement, though before I could say anything else the final wave of pain hit me.

This was like no other pain I'd witnessed that I could think of, though it was hard to remember when my brain felt like it was on fire. I must have cried out, an I dimly remember shutting my eyes against re onslaught, and the vague feeling of falling overcoming me for a few seconds before everything stopped. It was only then that I realised I had felt this exact pain before, once, just a few weeks ago. Well, technically twice, but I hadn't been awake the second time. What was going on?!

I needed to know where I was, _who_ I was. I didn't know who would intentionally switch bodies with me, or how they had managed to do it without the aid of my machine. It was all rather worrying for me, I mean, imagine the decrease in crime rates if the police could just switch bodies with the criminals and just walk themselves into prison! It would be a nightmare for my network!

It was this troublesome idea that finally forced me to open my eyes. I don't know what I had been expecting but it certainly wasn't Sherlock Holmes staring back at me unblinkingly. However, suddenly, everything clicked, and I groaned.

"Not this again!" I growled, which earned me an odd look from the consulting detective.

"John? Are you alright?" He asked, and I really couldn't help the eye-roll that followed his questions. After all, this was a real inconvenience for me, and I had many plans for crimes that would fall apart if I wasn't back in my own body soon. And the problem was, if I was in John's body again, where did that put him?

"Of course I'm not alright!" I said slightly exasperatedly. "This is the second time this has happened, and this time it wasn't even my fault! From the looks of it, it wasn't really John's either, but still! I'm a busy man you know." I looked at him pointedly, and he finally seemed to get it, as his eyes narrowed menacingly.

"Where is he, Moriarty?" He growled and I tutted at him quietly.

"He'll be in my office. Oh, don't give me that look! I didn't exactly plan this! Although it would have been mildly amusing if I had... Yes, yes, I'll stop now, no need to be rude." I said that last part with a very annoyed expression on my face, as it was obvious Sherlock did not care much for conversation at that moment. If looks could kill, I would certainly have been very dead in that moment.

"Take me to him, now!" Sherlock said, and I had no choice but to comply. I remember thinking that if John had messed up my office he would be the one to pay for any damage. And I didn't mean with money.


	5. Chapter 5: Keeping Up Appearances

**It's that time again, yup! Disclaimer time! I own absolutely nothing to do with Sherlock (sigh) except my own original characters, The Man, and a new one who will appear in this chapter! Tell me what you think of him, and I'll use the feedback as a guide as to whether to include him in the story :) Here's a reasonably long chapter as thanks for your patience and reviews, which just makes me love you guys even more :) Happy reading!**

_John_

Well, this was an unexpected development. Though, really, I should have seen it coming, after all, Moriarty had never left us in peace before, so why would he start now? At least I now knew what had been causing the headaches.

When I had awoken after what felt like eons of bright white pain, the first thought I'd had was 'Damn', and righty so. I had not exactly expected to still be in my own body considering the familiar agony I had only just endured, but I still jumped from shock when I opened my eyes to a complete stranger giving me a worried glance. My suspicions were confirmed when I looked down at my hands to see them youthful and unscarred, so completely unlike my own. Unfortunately, I had also recognised these hands, as, for a while, they had also belonged to me. I remember letting out a moan at the sight of them, completely forgetting about the company I now found myself in.

"Boss?" The man in front of me asked timidly, as though he was afraid that I would hit him. Although, I suppose considering Moriarty's behaviour towards everything and everyone, it was to be expected.

I gave the man a small smile to show I was alright, but this only made him shrink back in fear, and I made a mental check list never to smile again while I was in this body. Quickly realising that I would undoubtedly be held against my will and possibly tortured if I told them what was going on and who I really was, I changed my manner completely.

I gave the man my best scowl, which surprisingly made him relax, probably because glares were common from the consulting criminal, but smiles were to be feared. The man turned around and gave a smile to the small crowd lurking in the doorway of the office, wondering if their boss was okay. I suddenly realised with mild horror that I had no idea how to pretend to be Moriarty, an though I had always been fairly good at acting, these people wouldn't fall for anything that wasn't completely convincing.

_Here goes nothing_, I thought as I took in a deep breath.

I returned my stare to the man kneeling in front of me and growled at him to "Help me up!"As he did this, I noticed with pity how young he was, probably no more than nineteen. I found it saddening that he had been pulled into such a dangerous life so young, though I mused that he may have chosen the life, in which case I would only feel disgust for him. As soon as I was on my feet and reasonably steady, I yanked my arms away from his hands and strolled back towards the desk and sat awkwardly, putting my feet up as an afterthought. This seemed to do the trick, as the crowd quickly dispersed, leaving me alone with the young man. I took in every detail of him, though he kept his gaze lowered in a move of respect. He was tall with shaggy light brown hair and light blue eyes that reminded me a little of Sherlock's. He was also well-built, but looked surprisingly gentle, as though he had not been completely tainted by his life of crime. The pity was flooding back in again, and before I could think through my actions I asked him what his name was.

I mentally kicked myself as he looked up in surprise, and fought to keep my face devoid of emotion. How stupid of me! Of course Moriarty would know the names of his employees! He was probably already noticing my stupid mistake, and becoming confused. However, the boy seemed to take it in his stride, for he quickly regained his composure, and answered me.

"Sam. Sam Hunter." He said, and I nodded thoughtfully while inside my stomach was still doing backflips. I soon realised that the longer I stayed here, the more likely I was to be found out.

"Well then... I need to go out. Ie got some... Things to be getting on with. Catch you later, Sammy-Boy!" I had put all my knowledge of Moriarty's behaviour into that last line, and had even attempted his sing-song voice, though I probably just sounded really awkward. Before Sam had time to react I was out of my chair and heading towards the door. I had to fight to keep my features remaining calm, though I couldn't help myself as I picked up the pace and practically jogged down the hallway. I was nearly at the lift which I had thankfully found without any mishaps such as getting lost, when I heard frantic footsteps behind me. My breath caught in my throat for a second before I turned and saw it was only Sam, hurrying to catch up with me. I inwardly sighed as he stood beside me, and I realised that he was intending to follow me. I had not thought about the possibility of Moriarty having bodyguards, though I was glad it was this teenager over a burly middle-aged man.

"I won't be needing you to follow me," I said as I stepped into the lift, making sure to give him an intimidating look. He blinked at me, and I thought I was in the clear for a second before his face lit up in triumph and he joined me in the lift just as the doors closed.

As I looked at him strangely, completely unprepared for him to disregard the orders of his boss, he turned to me and began to explain his theory.

"This is a test, right? I mean, you've told me a billion times before not to let you out of my sight when you go out, so you're just making sure that I'm not going to just leave you! Well you don't have to worry, I won't." I sighed as I realised there was no way out of this, and didn't try to make him leave again. I could always have Sherlock knock him out once I actually managed to locate the detective. Who knew where he was now? Then a thought popped into my head that made me reconsider my plan. If I was in Moriarty's body again... Where did that put him? Unfortunately, that was obvious, and I nearly growled in frustration. If he was planning to try and trick Sherlock _again_ he had another thing coming to him. The only bit of this theory that didn't make sense was the repetition. I mean, surely he wouldn't go for the exact same scenario twice, would he? Sherlock would have figured something to be wrong as soon as he came out to find me in constant agony like I'd only been in once before.

I wasn't really focussing all my attention on where exactly I was going, and had soon left the building and had wandered out onto an unfamiliar street, Sam still close at my heel. I walked on for a bit, but I really didn't recognise the area, and it didn't look like the kind of place you'd want to live in. The place was virtually deserted, and it was creepy even in daylight. I continued to walk, but my pace quickened, and I tried to ignore the glances I was getting from rough-looking strangers.

"Um, Boss?" Sam said, and I stopped my frantic steps and turned to face him expectantly. "If you don't mind me asking, where are we going?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that question in a way that wouldn't seem suspicious, as I really didn't want Sam to realise something was wrong and force me to hurt him. I didn't think I'd be able to. Instead I smirked at him and replied, "You'll see!" in a very dismissive tone and resumed my walking, hoping he'd get the picture. He was apparently very in-tune to emotion, the complete opposite of Sherlock, as he didn't ask anything else. I wondered again why he had joined Moriarty's network, though this time I didn't ask any stupid questions.

Just as I was contemplating this, a man stepped out of the shadow of an alleyway, a gun pointed directly at my forehead. "Gimme all your money!" He snarled at me, and I froze in shock, completely unsure what would be the appropriate thing to do in such a situation. Fortunately I didn't have to do anything, as at that moment, Sam came to the rescue.

Quicker than I would have thought possible the teenager lurched forward and disarmed the man, who could only blink in surprise at the assault. Then, Sam began to kick and punch the man in some very painful places, and in a matter of seconds the fight was won. He turned to me, and where I expected there to be triumph or a hint of glee as was usual in criminals, there was only a blank stare. As he returned to my side, I watched him curiously. Maybe there was more to this boy than I would've thought.

Before I could stop myself, I thanked him, which earned me an incredulous look, and I feared my cover had finally been blown. However, he soon replaced the look with a grin, his eyes twinkling slightly.

"No problem." He said, and I could tell he meant it.


	6. Chapter 6: A Pair of Consultants

**I'm so sorry about the long wait guys! You're probably all really disappointed in me, I know I am! And I'm going to have to disappoint you all again- I don't know if I'm going to be able to continue this story at the present moment :( I've just started exams and they won't finish for at least five weeks yet, and I really can't be balancing revision and writing this at the same time. The only thing I an think of that might work is if I get a co-writer for the time being, though it'd be a lot of work for someone and I'm not sure anyone would want it! If you guys are happy for me to take a break and post only when I'm able to that's fine, but it'd be great if someone could co-write, just PM me if you're interested and we'll sort it from there :) I think it'll be the perfect opportunity for anyone who wants to write a fic but cant come up with a good idea, so if thats you don't hesitate to volunteer! Ok so here's the next chapter, enjoy!**

_Sherlock_

_I cannot believe that this has been allowed to happen again!_ I thought to myself as I sat next to Moriarty in the back of the taxi. He seemed to be thinking along the same lines as me, though he was smirking as though he found the whole thing rather amusing, unlike the annoyance that I held for the problem.

I hadn't believed him at first when he'd insisted he had nothing to do with the switch this time, though I soon changed my mind when I realised he had no reason to lie to me. Surely if he'd managed to do it again (which was really not his style at all, too repetitive and boring) he'd be bragging to me about it? Unless this was all a trap and I had fallen right into it, having me left alone with him in a taxi, with him giving the directions. Then again, there were much easier and more flamboyant ways to kidnap me, for which he didn't need John's body at all.

The problem was, if he wasn't lying to me, and he really hadn't had anything to do with the change, what had caused it this time?Was it a freak accident, or had something, or _someone_ caused it? What if it could be done again, no need for the machine, giving anyone the ability to switch bodies with anyone in the world? It would be a catastrophe!

I was jolted out of my horrific thoughts by Moriarty not-so-gently shaking my arm and singing "We're here!" in his annoyingly high-pitched way, which sounded truly odd with John's voice. I narrowed my eyes at him and gritted my teeth for fear of saying something that would lead him to the decision not to take me to John. This made him grin even more, and he hopped out of the taxi, and skipped off, not checking to see if I was following. We both knew I had no choice.

I nearly forgot to pay the taxi driver, but did so at the last moment, more as a salute to John's ideals of acceptable human behaviour and courtesy than on a whim of my own. I followed the psychopath into a very modern office block that I held an instant dislike for. Jim was quite far ahead of me, but I soon caught him up inside the lobby thanks to his now shorter legs compared to my rather long ones. We got some curious and even threatening glances when we first entered, though nobody questioned us for the time being.

Moriarty had obviously thought through the fact he would not just be able to saunter to his office looking like he did then, so moved towards the front desk where a young blond receptionist was perched. He grinned at her and leaned over the table slightly, which caused the girl to smile back in an attempt to seduce the flirtatious man before her. I rolled my eyes as Jim started to maintain idle conversation with her, and I even began to audibly tap my foot much to the receptionist's apparent annoyance. Jim sighed softly and finally straightened up, moving into his business posture.

"We'd like to have a quick chat with Mr Moriarty if that's okay," he said, smoothly.

"I see," the woman replied, turning back to her computer and scanning something on the monitor. "Do you have an appointment?" She asked, turning back to us again.

I scoffed slightly, which earned me a glare from Jim, though he'd even thought this through. "I'm afraid not, but I'm sure if you tell him that Mr Holmes and Dr Watson are here to see him, he'll send us up straight away!" I had to admire Moriarty's quick thinking, it was actually a rather useful skill, it seemed.

"I'm afraid Mr Moriarty has just left a few minutes ago, though I'm sure if you made an appointment-" she began, but I interrupted her.

"Left?" I asked incredulously. "Where did he go? And who with?" I practically growled that last sentence at her, and she didn't seem to like that one bit.

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait until he gets back" she said angrily, before directing her words back at Jim. "As I was saying before I was interrupted, you will have to make an appointment, as he didn't specify when he'd be back."

Jim looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds before nodding slightly and abruptly retreating towards the door, much to the surprise of the receptionist. I followed without question, ready to demand an explanation as soon as we'd left the building. However, Jim began before I could even voice any questions.

"I don't know where he could have gone, but he would have had one of my guards with him if he left of his own free will. I don't think he was taken, since she wouldn't have told us he'd left otherwise," he seemed to be voicing his thoughts out loud rather than trying to communicate them to me specifically. I shook him roughly and he turned to me, apparently no longer in the middle of a deep-thought process.

"Well? What do we do now then?" I growled angrily.

He looked at me curiously for a few seconds before shaking off any thoughts he had been in the process of having and instead focussing on the task at hand.

"He can't have gone far, he probably only had a ten minute head-start. Don't worry my dear, we'll find Johnny-Boy soon!" He finally seemed to be sounding more like his usual self again, and I was grateful for that. It was just too weird to think of Jim being semi-normal at times, even if it was only an act.


	7. Chapter 7: Lost and Found

Hey guys- bet you weren't expecting this update! I decided to give up on revision for tonight so I could get this chapter done (and give me an excuse to detail you about what's going to happen over the next few weeks!) A couple of things first- yes, I have changed my name, I mean come on, 'User15' wasn't exactly original or very exciting... Plus, I wanted to create a tumblr with a cool name, so look me up:- dangerousbliss is the name, and I have absolutely no idea how to use it :L It will be Sherlock based so no worries about that ;)  
Oh, secondly, I decided on the advice of a couple of my dedicated reviewers that I will not look for a co-writer, and will instead go on a four week hiatus with the occasional surprise chapter thrown in when I have the time (I might warn you about them if you follow me on tumblr :P) but anyway, enough about me, here's the next chapter! (It's not very long, sorryyy)

John

What the Hell was I supposed to do now?

Sam had been by my side for fifteen minutes straight, and no matter what I said he still followed me around, refusing to leave me even for a second. It was becoming increasingly annoying and I really needed to find a way to get rid of the boy soon if I wanted to avoid an awkward confrontation when we found Sherlock. The problem was that I liked Sam and after he had saved my life I really didn't want any harm to come to him. However, there was a very large chance that if he decided to try and hurt Sherlock when we found him that I would have to fight him, and potentially injure him.

I wondered again how someone like him could have become mixed up with someone like Moriarty, though there was no way I was going to ask him that. I really wasn't that stupid. He intrigued me, and his personality was rather unique. At times he was as polite and well mannered as it was possible, while other times he reminded me of Sherlock with his apparent fluency of the well known language of sarcasm.

"Dammit!" I muttered as we turned down yet another street that I didn't recognise. I was well and truly lost. It was times like these I wished I had Sherlock's ability to know exactly where he was at all times thanks to his extraordinary mental map of London.

"Boss, if I might ask again, where are we going? Or attempting to go at least?" Sam smirked at me, and I couldn't help but compare him to the Consulting Detective with that expression on his face. But I certainly wasn't going to tell him that.

Instead, I scowled at him in what I hoped was a convincing Moriarty imitation and proceeded to tell him "I know exactly where we're going thank you very much!"

Unfortunately, at that moment I realised that I'd been so wrapped up in my own thoughts that we'd reached a dead end. I cursed under my breath, which caused Sam to grin even more, and I finally accepted defeat.

"Just take me somewhere near the centre of London," I said, hoping that was not too vague, but at the same time didn't give my intentions away. However, I apparently wasn't clear enough.

"London's a pretty big place you know." He said, then took the time to add a careful "Boss" on the end of his sentence, though whether he was showing respect or mocking me was unclear in that moment.

"Ugh, just take me to the nearest place I can get a taxi!" I rubbed my eyes tiredly, suddenly it was as though I had no energy at all, and if I wasn't in such a dire predicament I'm sure I would have fallen asleep right there in that dingy little street.

"Right away, Boss!" He said with an impressively large amount of expression behind his words that made him sound even younger than usual. He took off back the way we came, leaving me to follow and not bothering to check if I actually was. I reasoned that this would be the perfect opportunity to leave him, but realised that I'd probably just get lost and he'd come and find me again. I sighed and set my pace to match his, making sure I kept him in sight at all times as he navigated the neglected streets.

I trailed behind him for a few minutes, but I could feel myself getting weaker and wearier with every step, as though I was leaking energy behind me as I moved. My eyes drooped and I found this sudden sleepiness very concerning, especially since I'd slept very well the night before. I couldn't even blame it on my middle-agedness, as while I was in Moriarty's body I was still late twenties, early thirties at most.

Eventually I couldn't even go on, which was really worrisome, and I sank to my knees, my vision was blurring and my hands were shaking. Sam finally realised there was something very wrong, and he jogged back to me, eyes scanning my pale face, which I'm sure must have been truly frightening to look at with my contrasting dark eyes and hair. He knelt beside me, and though my brain could tell he was trying to say something I could only catch the odd word through the foggy haze of my receding consciousness. I was too disorientated to even worry about what these effects could mean, and if I'd been in my right mind I'm sure, being a doctor, that I would have known to panic.

The bright white pain started just as I was in my last moments of consciousness, and I had the distinct but distant feeling that someone familiar was calling my name. Whoever they were, and it certainly wasn't Sam, they kept calling me, over and over. Just my name.

"John! John... John."


	8. Chapter 8: Familiar Faces

**Hey guys! Yep it's me, back from the dead, I bet you didn't expect to ever see me again! I'm sorry it's been such a long time, but I'm here now, and I haven't given up yet! I'm working on another fic at the same time called Breathing Darkness, so updates probably won't be steady for either, but I just wanted you guys to know I haven't forgotten you! Thank you to everyone who hasn't given up on me, and to reward you, here's a chapter! :)**

_Sherlock_

I decided completely wholeheartedly that I would rather spend my time surrounded by two year-olds than spend another minute with Jim Moriarty. The man was _skipping_.

He had no more idea where we were going than I did, but he didn't seem worried about the fact. I wondered yet again where the insane criminal I was used to had gone, but soon realised it was probably better that it was this way, even if he was terribly annoying. We hadn't said much to each other since leaving the office, but I could tell he was getting bored. We needed to find John soon, or who knew what the psychopath would do to attempt to entertain himself.

As we turned the corner down an abandoned street, just when i was about to give up hope, I finally saw what we had spent the last few hours searching for. John.

His back was to us and he was at the other end of the street, but it was definitely Moriarty's body, which meant John. There was someone else next to him, a tall skinny man who I assumed was some sort of bodyguard. I began to turn to Jim to ask if my deductions were correct when I saw John sink to his knees, and finally to the cold ground.

Fear clouded my thoughts, and I started to sprint towards him when I realised what had happened. I turned back to Jim and found him also unconscious on the ground, which prompted a huge grin to light up my face. I knelt beside him and began to call John's name, hoping so very much that I was correct and John would come back to me. I didn't have to wait long.

Dark blue eyes fluttered open confusedly before widening in recognition when my face and into view.

"Sh-Sherlock?" John asked in apparent disbelief and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"Welcome back, John!" I grinned at him and he gave me a shaky smile of his own. He looked around no doubt to see if he recognised our surroundings, and froze when he caught sight of the two bodies in the distance. Moriarty had also awoken and seemed to be spitting snide comments at the man beside him.

"You were so close to us!" John looked at me in bewilderment before laughing to himself quietly. He continued to watch the movements of the two men in the distance while I helped him to his feet. Suddenly he tensed in anger, and I looked round to see that Moriarty had shoved the other man over and was walking back towards us, leaving him on the floor. John shook off my hands as though they were restraints and stomped forward to meet Moriarty part way. I followed, unsure what to make of this new development.

"How dare you treat Sam like that!" John growled once Moriarty was within hearing distance. The criminal looked at him, first in confusion, then in amusement, and laughed.

"Aw Johnny-Boy's formed an attachment! How sweet!" Moriarty sneered, and I finally understood. The man- no, _boy_ I now realised, since he couldn't be older than eighteen, had finally picked himself up and had walked over with as much dignity he could muster considering the multiple bloody cuts on his face and hands. He looked very confused with the argument John and Moriarty were in the middle of, and I felt slightly sorry for him.

"You're a sick man, Moriarty! What has Sam ever done to you?" John was red in the face from anger, and Moriarty was starting to look annoyed.

Sam decided in that moment to insert himself into the conversation, addressing John. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" He asked, completely unsure of what was going on.

Moriarty interrupted John just as he had started to speak, replying with his own brand of sarcasm and spite. "Johnny here was just keeping my body warm for me while I was away, weren't you, hmm? I have to say, you didn't really do a very good job..."

Moriarty's taunts finally got the better of John, and to everyone's surprise, including his own it seemed, he jumped forward and threw a punch right at Jim's face, sending him staggering backwards. While Moriarty struggled to sit up and began spitting out a few cuss words of choice along with a few mouthfuls of blood, I grabbed John and pulled him out of harm's way. Moriarty looked as though he wanted a fight, but I doubted he'd play fair so I kept John behind me. Not that I wasn't sure he'd just as soon throw a punch at me.

"Ok everyone just calm down here!" Sam spoke up, his voice wavering slightly. "Now, would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?"


End file.
